Strawberries.
I associate summer with the aroma of strawberries permeating every molecule of air in the house. The kitchen fragrant with tangy-sweet berry smells as my dad sat at the table hulling flat after flat of ripe strawberries and my mother kept an eye the shimmering garnet colored jam as bubbles slowly rose to the surface and popped. Each pop led to a burst of the scent of fruit. Every once in awhile my dad would eye a particularly big, juicy strawberry suspiciously and hand it to me. Continue reading
